A Different Kind of Round Table
by HalcyonHermit
Summary: Visiting his brother, Alfred finds a sword that just happens to be in a stone. Before he knows it, the whole FACE family will be drawn into the mess right along with the G8. Not to mention just what is his Boss going to have to say with him going around Knighting people?
1. Chapter 1

Hetalia: Axis Powers is entirely the creation and work of Hidekaz Himaruya.

"Hey Mattie?"

"Yeah Al?"

Tending his garden like he did on Sundays, Matthew was none the wiser to the world changing event brewing in his own backyard. Earlier on in the day his brother had started a 'Surprise' game of Catch by throwing a baseball at him, at his face to be more precise, resulting in a nose bleed and a search for his spare glasses. That was sort of how America usually showed up, one moment of peace suddenly disturbed by whatever had caught the elder siblings fancy.

"When did you get a sword?"

"I don't own any swords."

"So you don't mind if I call Finders Keepers?"

"Be my guest."

Some people talked to their plants, they said it was good for them, Matthew sang a song of his aboriginal people to his plants. There were times when his brother would catch the tune and sing with him, but today wasn't one of those days. Watering the parched earth and singing away, he heard a noise and automatically reached for his cell to find it wasn't the reason for what he thought had been his ringtone (just some ceremonial bag pipes that spoke to his East Coast).

"Al, is your phone ringing?"

Silence wasn't all that uncommon a reply from his brother, Matthew was used to being ignored, but somehow this time it was different. The very air itself felt like it did before a Nor'easter blew in, and even the light of the Autumn sun was...off. Glancing behind him he saw something that just had him pause and stare in wonder. There was his brother Alfred, America (technically the United States of what was the Continent of North America but try telling him that), holding a sword.

"Where did you...?" Matthew asked, there were just suddenly too many questions racing through his mind right along with a hint of self preservation screaming'Yes, Alfred has a sword, so listen to the Doctor and Run!'.

"It was in that rock over there." Al said as he pointed with the very sword he held.

There was a rock in his garden that hadn't been there yesterday, truth be told it hadn't been there this morning, but that wasn't the thing that had Matthew disturbed. What really rattled him was that he was sure he just heard that sword of Alfred's sing, nothing so much as with words but something that was felt deep in his bones, and Nations had bones of the very bedrock of their countries.

Several things happened at once that he wouldn't quite recall for some time, first of these was that he was still kneeling in his garden with the floral gloves his Papa had bought for him (to tend the roses that had their own place of honour by his gazebo where he liked to read). Second of these there was a wind blowing, the sort that came about to herald that the painted leaves on the trees would make way to a world washed away white as Winter came. It was a wind that had purpose and embodied something that spoke to the heart in a same way a campfire did on a dark night.

The thing that stood out of them all was when his brother stood over him full of all the Geography, History and Culture made up of what more or less were two lines drawn in the sand to say where America began and ended. It wasn't Alfred standing there, but the United States of America, and when America spoke people listened.

"I dub thee, Sir Williams."

It was like a child playing King, a stick tapped once, then twice on his playmates shoulders, but unlike those games his brother did indeed wield a sword. The wind surged and all his efforts of raking those leaves were undone as they flew skyward. Dark clouds hung on the horizon and there was the flash of lightning with the answering crash of thunder that waited out the beating of his heart for just the right moment, it was about the time he found his voice...

"What did you do!?"

He felt that bass rumbling in his basalt bones and heard his windows rattle at the crash. Alfred just looked down to him oddly proud and pointing the sword towards the earth to grasp at the hilt and smile down to him in that way that usually meant trouble.

"I Knighted you."

"You..." Matthew asked, pointing at him just to be sure he was hearing this right, "Knighted me?!"

"Yeah." Al replied, swinging the sword to now prop it against his shoulder as he looked to be trying to figure out what the fuss was all about.

"You..." Matthew asked, stumbling over his tongue as he tried to spit out the rest once more.

"Knighted you, yeah. Sweet right?"

"No! You can't just go Knighting people!" Matthew shrieked.

"Why?" Al looked down to his brother who despite his rant was still kneeling.

"Why? Why!?" Matthew gasped, there was a moment missed when someone could have taken his picture to put next to the word Disbelief in the dictionary.

The words Revolutionary War were on his lips right along with 'We the People', a Midnight Ride and faces that became paintings and monuments. What came out was the noise of all those words getting into a riot as they tried to crash the gates that were his mouth, it was apparently a sad and pathetic sound as Alfred took pity on him and gave him a few gentle pats to his head.

"You okay bro?"

Knowing he needed help just to explain to his brother why he couldn't just go around Knighting people, and why it was just so wrong, and somehow still feeling that there was more to this whole mess than he knew, Matthew reached for his phone and called across the Pond looking for help. If there was one person who was well versed in the Monarchy, Knighting Etiquette, and maybe just a bit of magic it was his Father.

"Pappa! Alfred Knighted me!"

Unfortunately Matthew didn't phone his Father, who would at the very least have some choice words and a whole slew of British swearing to say on the matter. When Matthew was this upset his fingers did the dialling, calling the one person he called his Pappa, Francis Bonnefoy, France. His country also had a revolution...


	2. Chapter 2

Hetalia: Axis Powers is entirely the creation and work of Hidekaz Himaruya.

* * *

Sitting out in the den, Al had figured it best to let his brother work though his little break down in his usual way, cleaning the house from top to bottom and a little baking. It was a Win Win situation for him as the souffle on the coffee table attested, a nice snack for him as he watched something from his brother's movie collection, Hockey's Greatest Hits. Wincing in sympathy as some clueless player was slammed into the boards, the resulting fight was better than boxing any day of the week.

Hearing the doorbell ring, he grabbed the golf bag beside him and threw it over his shoulder. That had been the first of a few rules his bro had laid down in regards to his new sword. Firstly he wasn't allowed to go swinging it around in the house, secondly he had to keep it sheathed. Hence, golf bag.

"Note to self: Get a real sheath." Al muttered, heading off to the door and seeing two silhouettes through the frosted glass.

"Hey Mattie, you expecting company?" Al called back to the kitchen.

After getting no answer, he shrugged and opened up the door to find both Arthur and Francis there. Something about the look in Francis's eyes and the way he held the tiny little guillotine in hand had Al tempted to take arms and draw his sword.

"Artie, Franny." Alfred greeted.

"Alfred, could you just tell me what the bloody hell is going on? This git storms across the channel to drag me off to Heathrow muttering darkly all the way. All I caught was that he had to save his sweet, innocent Matthieu." Arthur asked.

Both men jerked and looked to Francis as the blade of his little model guillotine fell with a deep and to at least one Frenchman, utterly satisfying thunk. Arthur took that moment to take a couple of steps away from the man, Alfred doing the same as he backed up a pace. The quiet 'Ohononon' laughter didn't help the mood as the blade was reset.

"That's...a nice model Franny, didn't I see something like that in a Mel Brooks movie once? Just a little off the top?" Al tried to lighten the mood, but the hint of red that filled the French Nations eyes just left him with a fresh case of goose bumps.

"Anyways..." Arthur cut in, trying to get some answers.

"Mattie was just whining because I knighted him." Al revealed utterly nonchalant with a dismissive wave of his hand, still having no idea what the big deal was, it wasn't like he -really- Knighted him.

Arthur made the sort of face he made when he had clearly heard everything he just had heard, but his brain was still piecing it all together and going back for an instant replay just to be sure. One caterpillar eyebrow looked to be trying to make a break for cover up under his hair, while the other just hunkered down feeling duty sworn to stay put. Once again the tiny guillotine fell, sounding worse than the first time.

"You what?" Arthur asked, his brain requesting for more data to crunch just so it was absolutely sure if the results it was staring at.

"Well you see, I just found this sword in some stupid stone in Mattie's backyard and called finders keepers on it since he didn't want it." Alfred explained, drawing his utterly cool sword from his not so cool borrowed golf bag come sheath(even if he was now thinking to take the sword along the next time he went golfing, those old bastards could be mean out on the fairway).

"Where did you get that!" Arthur shrieked, raising a trembling hand to his mouth as he stared at the sword.

"Like I said, found it in a rock out in Mattie's backyard..." Alfred explained once more.

"M, may I?" Arthur asked with his hands held out reverently.

"Just as long as you remember it's mine." Alfred agreed.

It was around this time that Francis looked to be sniffing the air, quietly walking off into the house without another word and heading straight for the kitchen. Thinking maybe the man had been channelling that one revolution of his where Royal heads were rolling, he added it to those subjects you just didn't talk about with some nations unless you wanted to see their Snapped side.

"It's real..." Arthur whispered.

"Yep, already tried it on a watermelon, sucker's sharp." Al agreed.

Arthur was suddenly looking up at him in a way that left Al feeling a little concerned given that his onetime Guardian was holding his very real and very sharp sword.

"You...a watermelon...like some prat on Youtube!" Arthur screamed.

"Iggy...can I have my..." Alfred asked, reaching out gently to try and take back his sword just to be safe.

"Do you have any idea what this is?!" Arthur screeched.

Alfred was quickly adding to his Snapped list for Arthur never to mention slicing up watermelons with swords. Oddly enough he had a similar entry for Kiku, but as far as that one went how was he supposed to know it was a gift? Who gifts watermelons? Maybe a whole fruit basket yes, but just a melon? Back to scarey former pirates with very sharp swords, Al felt a little better after the slight detour until he saw the look in Arthur's eyes.

"It's Excalibur!" Arthur bellowed.

"You mean like that movie with Picard in it?" Al asked.

"That's Sir Patrick Stewart you git!" Arthur barked utterly indignant.

"Okay, okay, can I just have my sword back?" Alfred groaned.

Arthur looked down to the sword in his hands and once again to the Personification of America, the sword, America, sword...America.

"You really pulled this out of a stone?" Arthur asked, reluctantly handing it back to Alfred.

"Yep, then I totally Knighted Mattie with it." Al agreed.

The colour drained from Arthur's face while his knees buckled under him and he fell to the floor staring up at Alfred in horror. Looking on down to England and thinking it'd be a bit of fun to mess with the Old Man, Al gripped his sword and figured if Picard could be Knighted so could Iggy.

"I dub thee, Sir Kirkland." Al said aloud, tapping the sword twice.

Once again there was a crash of thunder so loud it shook the house, horrified cries coming from the kitchen bemoaning a souffle. Arthur blinked once, then twice before his eyes focussed enough to stare up in question to the man who had apparently just Knighted him.

"Did you just...?" Arthur asked.

"Yep." Al said with a huge grin.

"With Excalibur?" Arthur further questioned.

"Guess so, cool huh?" Al shrugged.

"Do you have any idea just what you've done!?" Arthur screamed, leaping to his feet and gripping Alfred by the shirt.

"Oh c'mon man, it's not like I -really- Knighted you." Alfred was rolling his eyes at how crazy it all sounded, it was just a sword even if Iggy was calling it Excalibur.

"That's the Sword of the True King!" Arthur huffed, struggling for his breath.

"So let me get this straight, you're saying this is the -real- Excalibur, and that I -really- Knighted you and Mattie, and now I'm the True King just like in the movies?" Alfred asked just to clear up the bullet points he'd been making.

"Yes!" Arthur gasped, ever surprised at how thick his former rebellious Colony's head could be.

"Damn, my boss is gonna kill me." Alfred said with a blown breath puffing his cheeks.


	3. Chapter 3

Hetalia: Axis Powers is entirely the creation and work of Hidekaz Himaruya.

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In the White House, more specifically the Oval Office, there were some phones that only were meant for certain phone calls. Every President had been briefed on the purpose of each of these phones as they had been added over the years, each met with equal degrees of respect, concern and for a couple a dread of ever hearing them ring. One of these phones had the annoying habit of ringing more than the rest, and as the President looked at it once again he wondered just what his Nation was calling the 'emergency line' about today.

"Alfred." The President greeted.

"Hey Chief, uh, you remember how I was visiting my Bro?" Alfred began.

The President did indeed remember this, he had actually been rather looking towards the visit so he could enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. Without any World Meetings going on, his Nation could get up to all sorts of mischief that quite often involved trips to Groom Lake to visit Tony, trying to build a Giant Robot with the aid of Japan, or as of last week re-enacting the Wright Brother's first controlled flight with North Carolina (albeit somehow adding rockets, which ended up getting the Air Force scrambling jets to intercept them). Then there was the time he'd gone over the Falls in a canoe with New York and Ontario along for the ride.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, the tone his nation was using was the one he had quickly become accustomed to early on in his administration which meant trouble. How he could get into trouble at his brothers home he didn't want to know, but being the POTUS meant having to ask the tough questions.

"What did you do this time Alfred?" The President asked.

"Why do you gotta jump to conclusions that I did something, I just might have been calling to see how you're doing? So Chief, how ya doing?" Alfred fired back flaunting false hurt.

Sighing deeply and humouring his Nation, he leaned back in his chair and really considered the question while toying with a pencil and wondering if he could launch it into the ceiling like he used to do during cram sessions back in his Harvard days. Somehow though he had to think he might get in trouble for defacing the Oval Office even if he was the POTUS. Tapping the eraser against his lip, maybe being a benign troublemaker for once was worth it given all the trouble his Nation got into. Flip, twirl, score...he hadn't lost his touch.

"Aside from the Frat Houses and Sororities that the States residences have become, which was only exasperated by Alberta, Ontario and British Columbia visiting..." The President started, reaching for another pencil to give it another go, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"They threw a party and didn't invite me!?" Alfred again sounded hurt though this time it was utterly real.

Drumming with another pencil and admiring the five speared into the ceiling, the President had to be thankful that the most any President could serve could be two terms. He loved being the POTUS, but there were times he wondered if there wasn't another reason the Founding Fathers had decided upon this, namely having to suffer keeping Alfred in check. It would figure it was during his administration that the States started to personify, making the problem just that much harder.

"...I am doing well Alfred. Can we get back to the reason you're calling?" The POTUS had also learned that he had to keep his Nation from getting sidetracked, which he didn't fault Alfred for actually.

Truthfully, being the truly Human Head of State for The United States of America was quite the balancing act without the people he represented influencing him so deeply as they did Alfred. If it hadn't been for all those words of advice his Northern counterpart, the Canadian Prime Minister had offered, he would have been really worried for his Nation thinking maybe he was coming undone at the seams with the States rise. Apparently Canada had been dealing with this ever since Quebec came so close to separating in that one referendum, and only mentioned it now. Sneaky Canucks.

"Well, it was just sitting there and Mattie didn't want it, so I asked him if I could have it and he said yes..."

Apparently in all his thought over the States and the problems they were causing him trying to do a Hollywood Remake of Animal House he hadn't noticed his Nation explaining the reason for the call. So far what he had heard wasn't good.

"...so then Iggy tells me it's really Excalibur and I -really- Knighted them and just maybe that now I'm -really- the True King of Britain." Alfred finished after some mumbled glossed over points that were rather suspicious.

"Let me get this straight..." The POTUS began after a long pause to gather up all the details as he was sure of them.

"Go fer it." Alfred prompted.

"You found a sword in your brothers backyard, plucked it out of a stone and then proceeded to Knight two Nations, all while becoming the True King of Britain which leaves me thinking I am about to have a very curt phone call from Her Majesty in the near future?" The President asked, his hand reaching for his Emergency Bourbon in the one desk drawer feeling the sudden need of a stiff drink.

"Cliff Notes, totally happened like that along with Franny having a guillotine that looked like it could shave some coastline off Florida if you know what I mean."

The President did know what he meant and he had his hand reaching down to guard his own 'Florida' in ghost pain at the horrific and horrible imagine just painted. Downing his bourbon and pouring another, he sipped this one slowly trying to piece out the ramification of this whole situation. Shuddering, this was something that he wasn't about to try and figure out alone, perhaps it was time for a little FACE to face with a couple of Prime Ministers and another President. Firstly though...

"Get this sorted out Alfred, goodbye." The POTUS said, promptly hanging up.

As his hand rested on the phone, he looked at another one that was very tempting to call right just then. Just one phone call to some gentlemen under the employ of the United States Government, a little flash of light and he could just forget that phone call had ever happened. Sadly, right along with asking Tough Questions he was there to deal with situations like this even if it meant a rather matronly woman might be using very unladylike language the next time he talked with her.

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"Woo! I didn't get fired!" Alfred cheered after hanging up the phone.

"You can't get fired Alfred." Matthew groaned.

Surveying the room, Francis was making use of his guillotine to chop carrots for the stew he was cooking, every time the blade fell making him whimper in fear for Florida. Iggy was texting away madly and taking times to glare up at him, muttering a few curses...which could mean something utterly different than swearing when it came to the English Nation. At least his bro was looking to be feeling better after his little breakdown Alfred had to admit.

"So he just said to get it sorted..." Alfred began.

CHOP.

"...out. Can you...you sure you don't have enough carrots cut up Francis? Franny?" Alfred asked.

CHOP.

"Her Majesty would like me to pass along a message to 'my Liege'." Arthur interrupted.

"What's the message?" Alfred asked, thankful for any distraction from the grandfather of the Slap Chop.

Peering at the offered phone, Alfred started reading the lengthy text and started to grow pale the further he went.

"Did she really teach the Corgis to do that?" Alfred shrieked as he got to the bottom.

"I think it was Harry actually, but she found it useful for dealing with the Paparazzi." Arthur clarified.

"Why's everyone out for Florida today!?" Alfred whined.

CHOP.

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_Thanks for the reviews and to everyone who has enjoyed it so far, hope you all got a giggle outta this update. Toodles!_


	4. Chapter 4

Hetalia: Axis Powers is entirely the creation and work of Hidekaz Himaruya.

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The gathered countries were sitting at the table caught up in idle chatter, doodling (masterpieces in the case of Feliciano, currently drawing a likeness of the Mona Lisa), or in the case of a few napping (lead by Heracles who was the Zen Master of napping). Ludwig was off nearest the podium with his laptop ready to take notes, heavily edited notes that would ignore the usual insanity that such meetings broke down into.

_You gotta do it for me, I just can't go opening doors now..._

Hearing the hushed voice of America from beyond the door, Ludwig looked up to see that the meeting had already run some fifteen minutes late with four nations yet to join. It was odd as Arthur, the English personification was usually a stickler for punctuality, which often meant Francis was at hand if only to try and entice or annoy the Brit. Canada was usually there too, overlooked yes but present, and thanks to emails and texting, Ludwig always managed to bring everyone's attention to the soft spoken and nearly invisible nation when he had something of importance to add.

_I'm not kicking the door down for you, you git..._

Tilting his head and listening closer, that was surely Arthur now Ludwig thought. Three, two, one...yep, there was that 'Ohonononon' laugh he was waiting for followed by a fight breaking out. As always, where England was, France wouldn't be far behind (even if it meant he was stalking the Brit in the bushes or such). Over the years a little nickname had been made for the North American Twins as well as their one time caretakers. The FACE family, though Feliciano had voted for CAFÉ which just hadn't caught on.

_I'm you're liege, you have to do what I say, you said it yourself..._

Now more heads were looking up from their doodles, cups of tea or coffee, or waking from their naps to listen to the argument going on behind the double doors. As far as family dynamics went, things could be worse Ludwig mused. As of late, the winner for the worst sibling rivalry had gone to North and South Korea. Between ideologies and their bosses, the Korean brothers were in a in a bit of a bind and prone to wild mood swings in the way of fist fights.

It was a good thing the brothers of North America got along so well, perhaps in this that Matthew had the patience of a saint. That and Mexico had written them off years ago as idiots the both of them. Ludwig knew the former Spanish colony come Nation had more than enough on her plate without needing to add two feuding national brothers to the pile. Boys being boys was fine with her or so she had said often enough in private.

_We can just walk in like normal..._

Barely head, Ludwig had to strain to make it out and knew instantly that it was Matthew. Patience of a Saint indeed, Gilbert and Ivan still had that running bet as to when 'Birdie' would finally snap after having Ivan using him as a chair for so many years/decades. Like most, Ludwig wasn't holding his breath, but he had joined the betting pool just the same. If Matthew snapped five years from now, he'd win.

_But I'm the Hero, the Hero always arrives in style! I want dancers and big screens just like Tony!_

_The alien or the guy with the suit?_

The door was kicked open and instead of either Francis, Arthur or Alfred himself, an irritated Matthew stalked to his seat and sat down. Ivan had been lingering off at the window admiring the scenery when his 'seat' arrived, walking off to the table. The largest nation by landmass prepared to sit down on the second when at that exact moment the temperature of the room noticeably dropped. Breath fogged, frost painted the windows, and once hot beverages were now of the 'iced' variety.

All eyes turned to the usually meek nation and the utterly unpredictable and completely creepy Russian. Two auras boiled off them touched by General Winter himself who was seen off in the corner of the room looming as only he could. Ludwig shivered not because of the cold, but because of horrific memories of fighting the General himself in the last World War.

"Ah, Matvey, I didn't see you there." Ivan said lightly, taking the empty seat next to the Canadian.

"Da-ze! Betting Pools originated in Korea! Pay up suckers!" Im Yong Soo cheered, while many nations including Ludwig himself reached for their wallets.

Shuffling in now, the nations of France, America and England found their usual seats. The stand off between the northern nations ended, the room warming as the General excused himself without so much a word. Most wanted it that way, none whose nation the General didn't call home had ever heard him speak, and of those that did they never seemed to have anything to say on the subject. Breathing a sigh of relief that things could get back to as normal as things ever got, it was then that Ludwig jumped at hearing a loud slamming noise and looked to the one who had caused it.

"You brought a weapon to a peaceful meeting!?" Ludwig shouted, staring at the sheathed blade in shock.

"Well I just can't go leaving it in Mattie's golf bag after Iggy got me this cool sheath for it." Al protested.

"Bruder, it's just a sword, it's not like it's Lizzy's skillet." Gilbert chimed in.

The room turned to Hungary who was busy reading a manga of the erotic kind along with Kiku and Im Yong Soo. She was blushing like a school girl and, just as the blush darkened and her eyes went wide, there it was. Getting up from his seat and finding a box of tissue, Ludwig offered it to the Hungarian personification to staunch her sudden nose bleed. Peeking a glance, there down at her feet was her overly large purse with the handle of the dreaded skillet poking out, as much as he hated to admit it his bruder had a point.

"Dude, this just ain't any sword, this is fricking Excalibur! Hail to the King Baby!" Al cheered, drawing the blade to brandish as he did all things, Heroically.

With years under his belt dealing with the often obnoxious and overly enthusiastic American, Ludwig looked to the rest of his family for the telltale gestures. Instead of the rolled eyes of England, amused looks of France, or the apologetic ones of Canada...what he saw was, unease. Looking at Alfred and his sword once more as the whole room erupted into conversation, something about the sword sang to his soul.

The light seemed to dance off the blade, the gold of the hilt glittering daring to outshine the encrusted gems. Words were whispered in his ears as he dared to read the runes that ran down the blade, words that had weight to them full of ritual and importance. As the blade fell he heard it's song, it was a song of Victory and Righteousness, it brought tears to his eyes with the visions that swam before him. A tap to his shoulder once, then twice drew him from the dreamlike state he'd been in. Looking up and envisioning a King, what he found instead was Alfred with words on his lips.

"I dub thee, Sir Germania..." Alfred said in the silence that had fallen over the meeting room.

"Bitte?" Ludwig asked, noticing he was kneeling.

"Just Knighted you dude, like -really- Knighted you." Alfred relayed, sheathing Excalibur.

Looking to Arthur first only to see tired green eyes taking cover under his caterpillar eyebrows, a look to Matthew had apologetic violet eyes meeting his own glacial blue. Francis was lighting up a cigarette and drawing deeply completely against the 'no smoking' rule of the meeting which showed he too was unnerved by everything that was going on. Helped to his feet and still staring in shock, the one thing he could hold onto for the sense of normalcy that he needed just then was that America was an expert of derailing the purpose of any meeting.

"Me next!"

The first voice was his bruder Gilbert, once the personification of the Teutonic Knights, joined by many more. Shoved out of the way and staring at so many of the juvenile nations begging for Alfred's favour, Ludwig found his hand taken by a gentle one that he knew nearly as well as his own for how often he found it clutching to his. Looking down to find Feliciano in his familiar place right by his side, the Itallian was positively beaming at him.

"Ja, Feliciano?" Ludwig asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Ve~! Please let me be your Squire!" Feliciano cried so hopefully it would have broken his heart to ever dare deny him.

"Ja, ja. You can be my Squire Feliciano..." Ludwig replied, everything left unsaid consisting of '_even if I don't know what the hell is going on_'.

That was enough to have Feliciano squealing in delight as if he'd been presented with any of his loves of life, fresh pasta, beautiful works of art, or equally beautiful women to swoon over and whoo. Leaving his friend to his happy place, Ludwig swore as soon as the commotion died down he was going to get some answers to just what the heck happened and what the hell was going on.

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End file.
